


E'tad - Rogue Chapter 9| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

by ACourtofSnakesandStars



Series: Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader [9]
Category: The Mandalorian
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Reader Insert, Swearing, Violence, mentions of death and blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 06:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30017760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACourtofSnakesandStars/pseuds/ACourtofSnakesandStars
Summary: Summary: You are going about your time in Nevarro, completely unaware of the struggle and frantic journey the Mandalorian is making. Will he get there in time?Warnings: A bit of violence/swearing, mentions of death/blood, alcohol/drinkingAN: I’m really sorry that this chapter isn’t as gripping as the others.  I’ve been super overwhelmed lately and been struggling to get my ideas down into actual words. I’ve been working on this for way longer than the word count reflects and just wanted to get it out. You can still count on a cliffhanger ending though, of course ♥︎Also, I’m sorry if there’s parts that aren’t canon. I definitely made up a couple of the planets and potentially bits of Nevarro.
Relationships: Din Djarin x reader, The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader, The Mandalorian x reader
Series: Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171574
Kudos: 2





	E'tad - Rogue Chapter 9| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

_Mando’a translation: E'tad - seven_

You’d been in Nevarro for a few days now. 

Things were going… okay? 

No. Things were going well. Really well. You felt safer here, knowing that Cara and Greef were monitoring who was coming and going and making sure they posed no threat to you. 

There were a few tense moments, times when government officials came wandering past, but you always stayed hidden out of the way. 

No one looked twice at you here – and if they did, it wasn’t for long. 

When you first walked through the town, you found Cara and Greef waiting for you just inside the gates. 

They were kind, welcoming too. Greef took your bag and welcomed you to the planet, whilst Cara smiled at you and shook your hand. You sensed that she was strong, determined and loyal to her cause and friends. She had a kindness in her eyes though, and it put you at ease.

These were Mando’s friends. He trusted them to take care of you, so that meant you’d be able to trust them too. 

They had shown you around, giving you a tour of the places that you might need, like markets and small stores, but also the places to avoid. 

When you’d had your tour, they showed you to a quaint building a short walk away from the centre of town. 

There were only 4 floors to the building, and about 2 rooms on each floor. Stopping on the third floor, they had showed you where you’d be staying. 

Cara had apologised for it being more on the minimal side, but you’d shaken your head quickly. This was more than you’d had in… years. 

There was a little kitchenette area to prepare food, a lounge space with a slightly ragged looking armchair and table. To the right of the space was a curtained off sleeping area, containing a thin, but comfy looking cot and then just off of that a washing area. There was a decent-sized metal tub, big enough for you to be able to sit in and just extend your legs comfortably. 

It might not have been grand, or spacious but it was a home. A place to come back to at the end of the day and be safe. 

The two had left you to get settled, and you couldn’t help that sharp pang in your chest. 

The Razor Crest had become a… sort of home to you over the last few weeks. It’s softly lit corridors and spaces, things crammed in everywhere but all mostly organised… the little compartment that had been your – well, the Mandalorian’s, - bed. The cockpit, where you spent most of your days either bantering with Mando or sitting in comfortable silence. 

_The kitchen area… his hands on your skin.._

_The weight of him behind you.._

You missed him. And if you were honest, it still stung. That all of that had occurred between you and he was just getting rid of you. 

No, maybe that wasn’t the right phrase. And nothing had really _happened_ between you. Just an outpouring of tension. Besides, he was so warm, maybe he had been running a fever. 

Mando had said that it was the only way to keep you safe. 

And you knew that you were also attracting attention onto him and Grogu. 

It still didn’t stop it from hurting any less. 

_~~~~~~~~~_

_—–7 Days Left—–_

_The Mandalorian made it back to his ship in record time. He didn’t waste precious minutes explaining to Peli. Just stating he had to go, thank you for the repairs and the last few days._

_Seven days. He just seven days to get back, grab you, and flee._

_Easy. He could do that easily._

_Right?_

_He gave her a handful of credits, promising to come back soon._

_He probably came across as rude, but he just couldn’t afford to wait._

_You would have been on Nevarro for a little over a week now. He’d been with Peli for a good few days, and the travelling here had cost him about a day and a bit._

_You were probably settled._

_Maybe even.. happy?_

_His instincts were always right, and they were telling him that this guy, Haran, the shadow of Hell, had meant every single word. That if he found you before Mando did, you would never return._

_Even if that happened, the Mandalorian would tear apart the galaxy to find you. There wouldn’t be a corner of space that Haran could hide that Mando wouldn’t get to. He would kill anyone who stood in his way, anyone who stopped him from reaching you._

_The force of his determination nearly took his breath away as he switched on the ship, the engines roaring to life_

_Moments later, he was leaving Tatooine._

_“I’m coming for you.”_

_~~~~~~~~~_

_~~~~~~~~~_

After that initial first week of settling in, you found that things improved a great deal. 

You knew your way around almost 100%, and frequently took walks around the town. 

Cara had reassured you that you wouldn’t have to hide here, but on busier days it would be best to keep your hood up. 

Just in case. 

Despite the threat of someone slipping through their watchful eyes, you relaxed. 

You worked with Cara sometimes during the days, going along with her for her Marshal duties and keeping things in order.

Other days, you spent time with Greef. You found him to be sort of… like an uncle in attitude. He was reassuring, and you enjoyed spending time with the both of them. 

You’d even begun to help out in the local school. Karga had suggested it one day, mentioning in passing how the teaching droids might benefit with a pair of extra eyes and hands. 

After making a few helpful comments, you had somehow established yourself as a teacher of survival. Not in the sense of, ‘this is how to disarm a bounty hunter who is coming at you whilst you’re sleeping., but more in the vein of, “Here’s how to find fresh water and a place to sleep.” 

The kids loved it, especially when you staged imaginary scenarios for them and had them running about the place or creeping through ‘the undergrowth’.

It felt good. To be using these skills you’d been forced to learn for something positive, something that the kids enjoyed. 

_~~~~~~~~~_

_~~~~~~~~_

_—–5 Days Left—–_

_Of course he had to stop for fuel._

_He had forgotten to ask Peli to fill it up before he left. Mainly because they couldn’t get out there when the sandstorm had hit, and then because he had left so quickly._

_He wanted to punch himself._

_Maybe he would. It might make him feel better._

_The Mandalorian stopped at the next closest planet, barely having turned the engines off before he was climbing out of the cockpit and making his way through the ship, Grogu secured in his little bag._

_He was halfway down the ramp when he looked over his shoulder, to check that you and Duru were behind him._

_Only to stop short, because you were no longer with him. Remember?_

_He sighed, ignoring the wrench of his heart and he walked through the landing bay._

_A quick search revealed a man in a fuel operatives’ uniform._

_Relief flooded Mando’s senses, and he hurried over, “Excuse me, would you be able to fill my ship? I’m sorry but I’m really in a hurry.”_

_The man looked up, wiping his hands on his uniform and he came over to Mando. “The Crest that just landed? Sure, I can fill her up right away, sir.”_

_Moments later, he had hooked up the necessary pipes and the ship was being pumped full of fuel._

_It didn’t stop him from pacing though, checking the time on the large display inside the landing bay._

_He was full of frantic energy, and he should probably stop pacing because he was going to make Grogu sick._

_The operative looked up, tilting his head a little, “Forgive me, sir, but you look awful jittery. Is something wrong?”_

_The Mandalorian spun on the spot, looking at the man suspiciously._

_Was he working for Haran? Was this a distraction?_

_Maybe he shouldn’t have come here._

_Grogu gurgled at his side, and he didn’t need to bother translating. He was being stupid; the kid was right._

_Mando sighed, curling his hands into fists and then uncurling them to try and release some tension. “Have you ever heard of the Shadow of Death?”_

_The man cursed, dropping the tool he was holding. He looked around quickly, his colourful face going pale with fear, “Sir! I beg you, please do not speak that name. Even mentioning it can summon him here.”_

_The Mandalorian couldn’t hide the surprise form his voice, “You believe in him then?”_

_The worker nodded slowly, motioning Mando over. When he was close enough, the man said quietly, “I’ve seen his… work.”_

_A chill skittered over Mando’s bones, “You’ve seen… someone he’s killed?”_

_A green sheen had come over the operatives face, “Yes, sir. I’ve seen it firsthand and I still wake up screaming even today.”_

_The Mandalorian tilted his head, “Many people believe he’s a myth, thought up by the darkest of people to cover their tracks.”_

_“That creature is not a myth, sir. He came for my sister and her family. She ran, but he was waiting at the safe house for her.” The man’s eyes became hazy with memory. “I don’t know how he knew. She had told no one where she was going. Not even me. They had never uttered the location aloud, not even to each other. They wrote it down. Just in case he was in the walls, listening.” The man swallowed roughly once, twice._

_“When we got there, there was nothing left to bury. Just clothes, a few strands of hair and blood coating the walls. It was like something from a nightmare. There were only a few… chunks left of them. They could never identify who was who.” He heaved a little, then turned grave eyes onto the Mandalorian._

_“If you know someone he wants, you’d be best of killing them yourselves. It would be a lot kinder.”_

_~~~~~~~~~_

_~~~~~~~~~_

_—–2 Days Left—–_

_The Mandalorian was getting frantic._

_And with his frantic haste, came messiness._

_He didn’t know it was taking him so damn long to get to Nevarro. He should have been there three days ago. Hell, he should never have left you there._

_There had been a nebula on the way out of the planet. It hadn’t come up on his radar until the last moment and he had to swerve to get around it, which cost him a detour he couldn’t afford. He couldn’t risk jumping into hyperspeed until he was clear either._

_Though it had taken too long, he eventually cleared it._

_He was close, so close. He’d been about to make the jump when two X-wing’s had come out of nowhere and started to chase him down. He’d tried to get them away, tried to shake them off but they’d forced him down into some icy planet._

_He’d nearly crashed the ship, nearly lost Grogu because the little womp rat decided to climb out of his seat as Mando tried to land and then the engines had cut out because they got too cold._

_And now he was cold. Fucking freezing in fact._

_Tracking through the snow and the ice, looking for the two pilots to get rid of them so he could be back on his way to finding you._

_With each movement of the sun, he became more and more painfully aware of how slow he was._

_He was never this slow. Never this sloppy. He needed to calm down and clear his head, but the words of the fuel operative kept ringing in his head._

_“That creature is not a myth, sir. He came for my sister and her family. She ran, but he was waiting at the safe house for her._

_When we got there, there was nothing left to bury. Just clothes, a few strands of hair and blood coating the walls._

_If you know someone he wants, you’d be best of killing them yourselves. It would be a lot kinder.”_

_He gritted his teeth as a shudder shook his body, and not from the cold._

_You wouldn’t end up like that._

_He’d find you. You would be fine._

_Noise broke through his thoughts, the sounds of the pilots and he slipped behind a snowpile and sunk down to wait._

_~~~~~~~~~_

Okay. So maybe the last few days weren’t going as well as they could have been. 

You were embarrassed to admit it, but at least two of them were spent drunk, and the third was spent in a state of hungover blurriness. 

Pinpointing the exact trigger was hard. 

It might have been the horrific nightmares that begun 4 days ago, or it might have been the conversation you had with Cara that day. 

You’d been sitting in the cantina, just talking after a day of work and she had begun to ask about your past. Nothing invasive, nothing forcing you to answer but something in you had wanted to spill some of the burden. 

She’d asked you where you learned your survival skills, and you thought about lying but… something stopped you. So, you’d told her. At least, as much as you could without revealing the real reason. 

You told her about the murder of your parents. How the market had been attacked that day, and you could do nothing to stop them dying. 

You told her how you’d run, spending two days hiding in a waste dump, crying and vomiting with fear and the horror of what you’d seen. How you’d dragged yourself out, and started your journey of planet hopping and hitching rides. 

Cara had asked what you did to get people coming after you, and you simply told her they thought you’d been responsible for the market attack, and the murders of the friends you’d made because people always seemed to die around you. 

You told her how it had forced you to not be able to trust anyone, to only be able to rely on yourself and how you had to learn to survive. 

It hadn’t been easy. You had made yourself sick countless times, including one really bad week where you ate some questionable vegetables and spent four days in a hallucinating stupor, convinced you were dying. 

She’d laughed at that and returned the favour by telling you about her shock trooper days. The fact they were dumped in on their own to hunt the warlords, being exposed to horrors that only you and few others could understand. 

The pair of you had spent the evening sharing stories, dancing around the subject of a certain beskar-clad hunter and his child. You couldn’t go there, couldn’t talk about it. 

She probably gathered all the information she needed from your lack of response though, by the look in her eye and the smirk when she mentioned him. 

That night might have been the cause of the horrific nightmare where you were convinced you’d just watched the Mandalorian and Grogu be torn to shreds by your own power. You’d woken up screaming, tasting their blood like that night and barely made it to the small bathroom area before vomiting. 

That was the last night you’d remembered before getting drunk. 

You supposed you were ashamed of yourself. 

You were giving in to feelings you’d spent years repressing.

You were wallowing. 

_You’re hurting. You’re allowed to let go of the pain sometimes, to feel it. You can’t keep going like the ice queen all the time._

How you hated that inner voice of reason. 

_~~~~~~~~~_

—–1 Day left—–

_His gloves were soaked with melted snow, sticking to his skin and freezing again instantly, no matter how many times he tried to warm them. It made his movements slow and fumbly as he desperately worked to fix the engine of his ship._

_He’d tried to take off as soon as he’d gotten rid of the pilots, but as soon as he’d started the engines, they died with no more than a puff of smoke._

_They were frozen._

_Snow and ice had gotten into the rotors and they wouldn’t start long enough for him to heat them up._

_He was stuck here._

_Grogu was freezing._

_Mando had left him inside the cockpit with the doors shut, bundled in all the blankets he could find in the ship. The heaters weren’t working, and the backup generator barely provided enough heat to stop the windows from icing over._

_He made a frustrated noise as he dropped his tools, stooping down to scoop them out of the snow._

_He had to get this working. He had to fix this and get to you._

_~~~~~~~~~~_

_~~~~~~~~~~_

The next day, you rose, dressed and returned to work. 

You apologised for your previous behaviour and threw yourself into your daily tasks with a determination that might have been bordering on insanity. 

You were eager to wipe away the shame of the past few days, so you spent the day doing every single job you could find and more. Even going out into the town on your lunch break to help around the markets and local small stores. 

It kept the thoughts at bay, the guilt and the shame, and also the relentless longing that plagued you. 

~~~~~~~~~~

_~~~~~~~~~~_

_—–12 hours left—–_

_The sun had set long ago._

_He was working by the small light on his helmet now._

_It was barely enough to see in front of his face, but he couldn’t stop. Even though he couldn’t feel his feet, or his hands. Or any of his body, actually._

_He couldn’t let you die._

_~~~~~~~~~~_

_~~~~~~~~~~_

It was the end of the day. 

You had just finished your work, helping Cara with maintaining things around town, dealing with the odd shady traveller that passed through looking for trouble. 

She knew your skills, that you were ruthless, quick and knew your way around a blade well enough to scare someone off. 

It was why you had started training with her a few days ago, before the drunken haze. 

You’d showed up to her office after a night of screaming dreams, shattered, wound up and tense. 

She’d taken one look at you, then taken you out the back to a big empty plot and begun to train with you. And it had worked. Sparring with someone and having to focus had helped you channel that anxious energy. 

It was a regular occurrence now, which was why you were engaged in another session with her. 

Greef had come to watch this afternoon, and sat on one of the huge, jagged hunks of rock that littered the volcanic planet. 

It didn’t put you off, you were too focused as you ducked under Cara’s punch, twirling around her body and delivering a sharp kick to her kidneys that had her coughing. You couldn’t help the chuckle, lightly springing back a few steps as she spun to face you, “Oh come on, you practically invited me to kick you.”

Cara rolled her eyes, advancing toward you, “And you were foolish enough to take it.” She flew into another attack on you, which you matched punch for punch, like you knew the moves she was going to take without her saying. 

You wondered if it had something to do with your power, some instinct from it. You still felt its presence more often than not lately, since that night it had helped you save the Mandalorian. You’d tried to push it back, but it was calling to you more and more recently. 

Shaking the thoughts free of your head, you focused back on fighting, pouring everything into it and letting go of all that nervous energy. 

You practically floated across the ashy ground, moving around her like you were breathing. 

It wasn’t quite the choreographed, effortless fighting you and Mando had engaged in, but it was still something. 

Dimly, you heard Greef laugh, clapping. “I never quite knew what Mando meant when he told us you fought like you were dancing, but I completely understand now.”

You froze, just managing to lift a hand and block Cara’s swing to your face, “What? He said that?” You looked over your shoulder, eyebrows raised in shock.

Karga nodded quickly, “Oh, yes! When he was telling us about the first time you met, and when you saved his life. He said he’d met more fighters in his life than he could remember, but you stood out most of all. ‘She fights like she’s dancing. Like she’s moving to a song of death only she can hear. It was mesmerising’ That’s what he told us.”

_Mesmerising._

He’d really said that about you? Complimented you like that to his friends when you weren’t around?

It made your heart constrict and a sort of warm feeling spread through your veins. 

Unfortunately, it also made you distracted. 

Which gave Cara the opportunity to slam her knee into your back and knock you to the ground. “Stop getting doe-eyed over the Mandalorian and focus.” She was laughing, standing over you. 

Your cheeks flushed slightly but you snarled, flipping on your back and pulling out her ankles. “I don’t get doe-eyed.”

_~~~~~~~~~~_

_~~~~~~~~~~_

_—–2 hours left—_

_The Mandalorian had never been this cold._

_He was still outside, and a snowstorm had begun now._

_His poor visibility was even worse, and it seemed to take him twice as long to do anything._

_It was like the commands he sent from his brain to his hands were slogging through the thick snow._

_His armour had long since frozen over, and every time he moved, ice cracked and fell from the crevice’s._

_He didn’t know how long he could do this for._

_He didn’t know if Grogu was still alive._

_He didn’t know if you were still alive._

_Haran may have gone back on his words and come after you anyway. You might have been dead for days already._

_No._

_No, he couldn’t let himself think that._

_He had to keep going. He had to…_

_He had to rest…_

_He was cold. So very cold that he almost felt warm._

_A mournful cry of wind shot through him, sucking the little energy from his body in a sub-zero blast and his knees gave out, dumping him in the snow._

_Get up._

_He couldn’t._

_~~~~~~~~_

_~~~~~~~~_

“Good fighting today. You were a lot more focused. Well, mostly.” Cara leaned against the doorway to your building, crossing her arms and grinning again. 

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks so much. The bruise I have on my back will forever remind me of your compliments.” 

She laughed, raising an eyebrow, “And the pain in my kidney’s will remind of yours.” She tilted her head, watching you, “Why did it throw you so much?”

You pretended not to know what she was talking about, “Me kicking you in the kidneys?”

Cara gave you a deadpan look, knowing what you were doing, “No. What Greef said about Mando. You looked shocked.”

You swallowed, looking down and pretending to examine your boots and you pulled out an easy shrug, “I just didn’t expect a compliment like that from him. The first time we fought, we were both trying to kill each other, and the second time he saw me, he was half-unconscious. I didn’t think he remembered.”

Whether she saw through your lie or not, she thankfully didn’t press it. “Well… He can shock you sometimes, trust me.” She stood up straight, pushing away from the wall “I’ll see you later for dinner?”

Relief flooded through you and you nodded, able to meet her gaze now, “Sure, dinner sounds great. I’ll come by after a drink.”

~~~~~~~~~~

_~~~~~~~~~_

_—–0 Hours Left—–_

_He was too late._

_~~~~~~~~~_

_~~~~~~~~~_

You were still thinking about what Greef said as you made your way into the cantina, Duru asleep back in your room. 

It had become a popular haunt for you whilst being here. You wondered if you might be starting to have a problem. 

But the chatter of the different people and creatures provided an ambiance that kept the wandering thoughts at bay. 

When you were alone and still, you had a habit of straying to the Mandalorian and Grogu. 

His last words kept echoing in your head, that you might see each other soon. 

_When, Lori? Soon isn’t close enough._

You sighed to yourself as you slid onto a seat at the bar. You seriously needed to have an intervention with yourself. You didn’t pine like this. You didn’t get soft and sentimental. 

You couldn’t afford to, not the way you lived. 

_But we aren’t on the run anymore. At least not like we used to be…_

You ignored that voice in your head, the one that threatened to speak sense. Luckily, the droid that was serving as the bartender came over, placing your usual drink in front of you. 

You nodded in thanks, pulling it toward you. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that the droid knew your drink without asking. 

Then again… it _was_ a droid. It was probably built into its hardware. It didn’t mean that you were an alcoholic. Although, your drunken stupor went against that argument. 

You brushed your hand over the bar in front of you, getting rid of the layer of volcanic ash that settled over everything. Every night you found it in your hair, under your clothes and even in your boots. It didn’t bother you much though. Over the years, you’d become used to it, being covered in dirt or grime. 

_Except when you were on the Crest._

You shook your head slightly at yourself. You weren’t going to go there. 

_You could do what you wanted to on the Crest. You didn’t have to be covered in dirt or ash or mud. You were clean. Rested. Warm._

Do not go there. 

_You had company. Friends, even._

You blew out a breath, taking a big gulp of your drink. It didn’t matter now anyway. You were here. You didn’t know how long you were to stay for, but this was your new… home. 

_But it doesn’t feel like home. It’s not cosy. It doesn’t smell the same. You can’t hear the sounds of the engine, or Grogu or Mando._

Maker, you had to find a way to shut that voice up. Maybe you’d knocked something lose back when you fought the guy with a tail. Things hadn’t been right in your head since then. 

_Since you saved the Mandalorian’s life?_

“Shut _up!!_ ” You didn’t realise you’d hissed the words out loud until a nearby trader gave you a funny look. 

Brilliant, now you looked drunk or possibly crazy. 

You dropped your head into your hands, rubbing your eyes. You needed to get over yourself.

_And the Mandalorian._

When you lifted your glass back to your lips, you noticed that your drink was already done. 

_Whoops. Definitely looking more drunk than crazy now._

You looked up, raising your hand for another drink regardless and when the droid placed it in front of you, you slid over the required credits. 

Only for it to push them back, “Your drinks have already been paid for, miss.” 

You blinked in confusion at its monotone voice, “By who? I asked Cara and Greef not to touch my tab.” You had wanted to pay for it yourself. They refused to take any money in payment for you room, so you had managed to negotiate any expenses you racked up elsewhere – such as here. 

The droid looked at you with its expressionless robotic face, “They were not paid for by Marshal Dune or Greef Karga. Please, take the credits.”

You reached out, slowly dragging them back and putting them back inside the inside pocket of your cloak, “Who paid for it then?” You couldn’t help the insistent tone to your voice, even if it would be lost on the droid. 

Before it could answer, your question was answered. 

“I did.” 

The voice that came from behind you was silken, rising over the din background noise of the cantina. It caressed over your bones, those two simple words dripping like honey. Something tugged inside of you, pulled at that buried kernel of power. 

You turned on your stool, looking for the owner of such a magnetic voice. 

There, behind you, sat a figure. 

Decked in an expensive looking cloak lined with golden thread, lounging back in his seat like he didn’t have a care in the world. You could see the edge of a hilt peeping above broad shoulders, something drawing you to look at it but you couldn’t see it properly. 

You blinked again, raising an eyebrow, “Sorry?”

The figure leant forward, “I paid for your drinks.” He lifted a pair of gloved hands and pushed back his hood. 


End file.
